A Letter to My Depressed Self [Prose Poem]

l am fine.
In the eye of a storm, I breathe.
I’m watching the threatening walls of this storm that jeopardizes my perimeter. But, the air is still so I can get myself together; bracing for the next wave.

I call for help. But I don’t need any. Left to my own devices, I make a plan. A worthless plan, but it’s keeping me occupied.

I pray. But I am not sure that I’m hurt enough for God to react. Desperate, but too indecisive to move.

I write.
I use it to pass the message to my depressed self.


It will be alright. It will be alright.

Don’t worry.
I survived. I am loved. I am being tested.
I am being thrown around to see different perspectives.
I am being gutted to let the evil come out.
I am being suffocated to cherish the air I breathe.
I am being haunted to understand the spirits of evil.
I am being prosecuted to learn the laws of Heaven.
I am being abandoned to value love of others.

To develop a strong lust for life.

Lust is stronger than the wind of a hurricane, lust that moves the Earth in an infinite spin of destinies. Lost in the spinning vacuum of this universe…

I remember that I wrote this.
It is a manifesto of a life in the eye of the storm.
I was ok. I will be ok again.

Written by Carla – Fairless Hills, Pennsylvania

Wheres your office

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